


Skeleton

by wclfwoman



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Drabble, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Requited Love, Stereotypical American Suburbs AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 20:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13842081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wclfwoman/pseuds/wclfwoman
Summary: He wonders how long he had felt like this, as he’s perched between his best friend’s legs, almost kissing, almost everything Hinata has been dreaming of, aching for, since he understood what kissing and love and sex was.





	Skeleton

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever "fic", cheers! And here's to hopefully many more. I decided to keep this short, and go with a simple drabble idea that struck me earlier. 
> 
> Feedback is always welcome! I hope you all enjoy it. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://ittsu.tumblr.com/).
> 
> And thank you to [keishn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/keishn) and [yahabinch](http://yahabinch.tumblr.com/) for the beta-ing.
> 
> Me and [keishn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/keishn) have a collab blog on tumblr that you can find [here](https://coepisse.tumblr.com/)— you can send us prompts for drabbles or longer fics.

Kageyama’s hands are shaking as he reaches forward, fingers skimming along the sharp edge of Hinata’s jaw. And Hinata breathes out slow, chest aching, his nails biting into the bare skin of his knees. The wooden floor beneath him digs into his hips, sending sharp pains up his back, contrary to how Kageyama sits across from him, back to his bed— the vision of leisure and marijuana induced relaxation. He’s staring at Hinata from lidded eyes, lips quirking into the smallest of smirks, and he’s dragging Hinata towards him by the back of his neck, forcing Hinata to uncross his legs, rise to his knees, shuffle them across the floor until their breath brushes against the other’s mouth. Hinata can barely breathe, disregarding the leftover smoke that still clings to the air, and everything feels far too heavy.

          He wonders how long he had felt like this, as he’s perched between his best friend’s legs, almost kissing, almost everything Hinata has been dreaming of, aching for, since he understood what kissing and love and sex was. Kageyama was there before that; when they were still blowing firecrackers off in the middle of the street and racing their bikes down the slope towards the ice cream parlor, when their knees were covered in mud and their chins scratched and bruised as they trudged home from the forest that spread out for miles behind their houses— the tiny, quiet suburbs of New York surrounded by woods and half built forts and homeless camps. 

          Kageyama tugs harder, until their noses touch and their lips meet. Quick and light and barely there. And he lifts Hinata’s hands from where they’re still clenching his knees, resting them on his own shoulders. Kageyama drops his grip to Hinata’s waist, clenching his fingers because this is real. His head is spinning and he licks his lips as they separate, both gasping as they suck in air. Then Hinata’s pushing him, his tongue flicking against Kageyama’s mouth and he feels as though he’s reached completion, that at this exact moment his life is finally,  _ finally _ beginning. 

          Hinata’s eyes burn with tears— pure elation— his heart thudding so loudly he’s positive Kageyama can hear it too, and they are pressed together now, chest to chest, hip to hip. Kageyama’s licking into his mouth, and Hinata’s sucking his tongue, and the steady beat of low-fi is the only sound in the room aside from their panting and the wetness of their mouths. They are rocking together, bodies moving in tandem; Hinata wishes to never part from Kageyama again, to press so close together they become one. Hinata moves until he’s straddling the thick width of Kageyama’s thighs, hands reaching to tangle in the silken black locks that have haunted him since he first started masturbating (since Kageyama became the star of those late night thoughts.) He tugs, sharp and quick, and Kageyama moans then retaliates with a bite to Hinata’s bottom lip, before he sucks it into his mouth, making it swollen and red and relishing in the whines that pulls from Hinata. 

          He needs to move; to be the only thing Hinata sees, feels, understands. So he’s standing, lifting the smaller boy up by the back of his thighs before dumping him onto the bed behind unceremoniously (but it does the job) and following him up. The mattress is dipping and creaking beneath the weight of their bodies, and they aren’t five anymore where they fit comfortably on the twin sized bed but twenty and half way through their undergrad. Their elbows knock into the wall, and Kageyama almost knees Hinata in the shin, which would lead to something worse than a bruise with the pains he still feels from his injury in their freshman year, but it’s perfect as Kageyama adjusts until he’s hovering over Hinata’s lithe form. The room reeks still of weed— they’d forgotten to crack the window— and they’re both starting to sweat, but Kageyama wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. 

          Hinata’s fingers dance beneath the worn material of Kageyama’s t-shirt, tracing along the wiry hairs that lead to the waist of his sweats; his jeans are too tight and the muscles beneath Hinata’s hands jump and shiver under his touch. He lets out a breath, whistling through his nose, before he inhales, shaky and wanting, and he’s surging up until their lips are meeting, opening reflexively and their tongues sliding together. Kageyama lowers himself, elbows resting near Hinata’s shoulders as he twines those long, calloused fingers into the longer parts of Hinata’s hair, scratching his nails softly behind Hinata’s ears, teasing and gentle and lulling. 

          They’re both hard now, however neither moves to do anything about it, too high and sluggish to put the effort into jacking off, but their hips rolls against each other and it feels too good to stop. It won’t lead anywhere, they know this, and both of them are teetering off to soft nips here and there as their kisses slow, as they move until they lay side by side, simply breathing into the other’s mouth, nudging a nose against a sweat dampened cheek. Hinata’s hands smooth up Kageyama’s side; Kageyama curls a red lock around his forefinger.

          Kageyama can’t fight the grin and Hinata responds in kind, another kiss. Hips are still moving. They aren’t as hard anymore, but it’s a pleasant, consistent buzzing inside of them, a warmth that coils and uncoils as the minutes pass and the room cools and the sound of crickets chirping outside breaches the silence. It wasn’t just the weed, Kageyama understands this; Hinata understands this.  _ This _ , it’s been building for years, and Hinata has known he was in love with Kageyama since he was fifteen, and Kageyama believes that he was born in love and faithful to the other boy. So they drift into the ebbing darkness of sleep, legs tangled, and their mouths still moving together ever-so-gently.  _ Finally _ , the air around them seems to whisper, their heart beats syncing up,  _ finally _ .


End file.
